


The Stranger

by thevalesofanduin



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 13:12:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thevalesofanduin/pseuds/thevalesofanduin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Here I am, sitting on a plastic, uncomfortable chair in the London underground, biting my lower-lip because I am trying to keep myself from jumping the stranger next to me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Gift-fic for MayaNara.

The existence of men is a monotone one. Each morning the majority of the population of our over-crowded planet drags themselves to work either by own transportation or by public transport.

 

I pity the ones that choose to travel on their own, have to queue up their car and drive half-a-mile a minute thus leave an hour before they actually have to be at the place they leave for. But of course, being packed in an underground-train with your neighbour’s armpit shoved against your ear and your other neighbour’s briefcase ensuring bruises on your side isn’t much better. It does take you less time to actually arrive at your destination and it is thus the only reason I voluntarily travel by the London underground to work.

 

Fortunately though, I am one of the few persons that can decide for myself when I show up at my job and thus have the ultimate luxury of travelling the tube outside of rush-hour and claim the one thing that is most sacred amongst those who travel the underground.

 

A seat.

 

\----

 

_“This is the Central Line train to Hainault by Newbury Park. The next station is Notting Hill Gate.”_

_  
_

The female, monotone voice echoes through the carriage while it races over the track towards its destination. It’s wobbling from right to left which can actually cause nausea to one’s stomach. My own stomach though is as strong as your best brick wall thus I don’t suffer from the slightly sea-sick feeling others might experience.

 

I let my half-mast gaze travel around the carriage. It is surprising that after three years, four months and a few days of travelling the same underground-line at the same times has you recognize people who do the same.

 

It is strange, the human urge to do the same and for that reason fall into a pattern that for a silent observer is easy to follow.

 

The man that sits a few chairs to my left travels at the same time, everyday. He’s always reading the same book titled _Kafka on the Shore_ , written by Haruki Murakami. A brilliant book, truly, but he is not reading it. In the reflection of the glass behind him the pages are visible. And I know for a fact that Kafka doesn’t contain random images of very big-breasted and very naked women.

 

To each their own is what people would say. And it is quite true, none of the business that that man attends to is my own. But as a silent, uncaring and plain bystander I don’t stand out thus am allowed to observe.

 

Deciphering actions, analyzing expressions and draw conclusions from those things that satisfy my own need for information. It is the curse of a brain that is always working.

 

The train brakes and I am informed that _“This is Notting Hill Gate”_. People stand up, mutter their goodbyes to companions and shuffle to crowd in front of the doors.

 

Screeching the train comes to a halt, people stumbling by the sudden stop and the same female monotone voice sends out a warning every person that has ever travelled by the London underground can recite.

 

_“Please mind the gap between the train and the station.”_

_  
_

The doors open and the train is left almost empty for almost no-one enters. Of course, there is the bubbly-blond and his companion with the short, blue hair that always board the tube this time on Wednesdays and Fridays. The pink-haired young woman with the tight skirts enters as well, sitting down on the row of chairs in front of me and brushing her hair out of her face before smiling at me uncomfortably.

 

Because recognizing the people you often travel with yet have never spoken a word against is uncomfortable. People feel as if they know each other but in reality don’t have a clue who you are and what to say. Because why greet a complete and utter stranger whom might not even know he travels the same underground-line as you do three days a week?

 

 

 

The doors close as they always do, with a speed that still amazes me. The woman announces that yes, we still are on the Central Line and the next station will be Queensway.

 

I let a sigh pass my lips. Seven more stations to go and we’ll arrive at St. Paul’s, my stop.

 

A few years ago at the age of twenty-one, fresh out of college and not wanting to actually work I set up a small, straight-to-the-point shop near one of the city’s highlights.

 

It’s just your average cigarette- and magazine store situated on a small side-street where I pay less rent then I would on the high-street where the known brands flaunt their expensive names and over-priced products.

 

I was written off quickly in the beginning by shop owners around me, too inexperienced they told me. Yet my brain always works, I have a photographic memory and as my favourite teacher in High School used to say, I am a tactic wonder.

 

Beginning my own store was not the vision everyone had for me when I graduated but I have never been one to work hard. This way, I earn easy money and drop in to check the store every day.

 

It is an easy way of living, just the way I like it and no matter how much other things I could achieve in my life, this is the way I want to stay for at least the coming ten years.

 

 

 

“Excuse me, Sir?”

 

I am shaken from my thoughts by a friendly voice and I look sideways to see who is actually brave enough to speak to an unknown person in the tube.

 

The man is looking at me nervously with a half-smile playing on his thin lips. He’s quite small and has shoulder-length light-brown hair that gives him a somewhat cute look. Yet there’s a scar running across the bridge of his nose that tells me that something bad happened in his past. No matter what it was, it made him less innocent than he looks. Occurrences that involve scars usually change people.

 

“Yes?” I drawl, not at all interested in what this man might want to ask me. Nine out of ten it’s a tourist looking for directions. That’s what you get when you live in a world-city like London. There’s always some tourist who’s lost his way and is now desperately clinging to a local in the hopes he or she might show the way.

 

It sometimes makes you wish that the language spoken in the United Kingdom wasn’t English. Because of the fact at least half the world can ask directions in English and our country has exactly that widely known language as its pride and joy, we can’t pretend not to understand some poor tourist. And for a guy as lazy as me, telling someone the directions to either St. Paul’s Cathedral or the London Gate Bridge is very troublesome.

 

“I was wondering if you were reading that paper.” The man asks me, pointing to the paper that’s lying on the empty seat next to mine.

 

I shake my head, retrieve the newspaper from the chair, the London Times, and hand it over to the man with a friendly nod. “Here you go.”

 

“Thanks.” A small smile lights up the man’s face before he turns around and sits down on one of the chairs in the next row.

 

Just in time, because the moment he sits down the train halts abruptly and the doors open again, making room for a large group of tourists shuffling inside like a pack of animals. A short woman with black hair, a shrill voice laced with an Asian accent and the usual red umbrella in her hand to let her group know she is the pack-leader announces they will get off at St. Paul’s.

 

I sigh, this is going to be a long ride.

 

\----

 

Friday afternoons are always busy on the tube. Most office-workers try to take Friday afternoons off, the nearing excitement of a free weekend too disturbing for ones concentration. Succeeding at leaving the office before three o’clock through is useless and thus at five o’clock, the tube is swamped by men in suits.

 

There’s a man three seats on my left that’s been annoying me for the entire ride. He’s got brown hair, an almost feral grin playing on his lips and comes across as a wild kind of guy. And from what I’ve heard him telling the now third girl he has on the phone, quite the player too.

 

I’m not fond of persons like that. Thinking they rule the world and can have as many girlfriends as they wish.

 

 

 

The train halts abruptly, the woman announcing over the intercom we’re now at Bond Street and please alight here if you want to change for the Jubilee Line.

 

I sigh. Tomorrow this is where I’ll change trains and take the Jubilee Line up to Queensbury where my bossy mom and whipped father have a garden-variety townhouse with a silver family-car parked on the drive-way. My family is so average, it almost hurts but it is exactly the way we like it.

 

“Excuse me.”

 

The usual fellow-passenger sitting down next to me drags me from my thoughts with a husky, low voice that has my attention immediately.

 

I look to my left through lowered lashes and the sight I am met with steals my breath away and has my heart skip a beat.

 

I have known for a long time women are not my cup of tea, so to speak. I never felt a real attraction towards them and when I dated my first and only girlfriend at the age of fifteen I was scared away forever. The man to ever marry Temari will be one unlucky bastard.

 

But never before have I felt attracted to a person instantly without ever haven spoken a word with them. But this man, whose looks in combination with a slightly cocky countenance and a sinful voice, has my full attention within a few seconds.

 

Long hair that is the colour of dark-chocolate cascades down broad shoulders. The dark-brown jacket and beige T-shirt he’s wearing match perfectly with that long hair and his pale, unmarked skin. And from what I can see from the fitted, dark jeans he’s wearing he’s got strong thighs yet isn’t buff or chubby.

 

I swallow.

 

There is just one word to describe the hotness spreading through my body and clouding my brain. Lust. I want to bed this man and as soon as possible.

 

It’s been some time, I must admit. My last relationship ended a year ago and the last time I hooked up with someone is so long ago I cannot even remember the person’s face. Such a shame.

 

Although my lack of sexual activity over the past few months doesn’t immediately explain my instant attraction.

 

Because here I am, sitting on a plastic, uncomfortable chair in the London underground, biting my lower-lip because I am trying to keep myself from jumping the stranger next to me. Seriously, I need to either get my wires checked or get laid.

 

Well, maybe this gorgeous creature next to me is willing to help me out? I want to bet that long hair feels wonderful, that that pale skin will look adorable when flushed and I am also very certain that his hands will feel like heaven when stroking over my skin.

 

But then again, this is the tube and the man is just a stranger and I don’t believe in love at first sight thus I find the idea of asking this man for anything but the paper on the chair next to his absolutely ridiculous.

 

Although this can’t exactly be described as love, lust is a better word to express my current feelings. Because love will spread a warmth through my body while this just makes my pants uncomfortable. A thing I certainly do not need nor want to experience right now during this busy time.

 

I turn my head away, watching the concrete wall that flashes by on the other side of the window.

 

_“This is Marble Arch.”_

_  
_

I sigh, just a few more stops and I arrive at Shepherd’s Bush where I rent an apartment with my life-long, chubby friend Chouji Akimichi.

 

But apparently looking up wasn’t one of my brightest idea, which is kind of unusual but happens once every so often.

 

White eyes with slight hints of lavender swirling through them are watching me and I swallow.

 

Shit, he caught me.

 

A smirk appears on his lips and his shoulder bumps against mine when the train stops and the doors open.

 

He stands up and I can swear his hand brushes against me intentionally yet of course I am not sure. What are the odds of the man being attracted to me as I feel attracted towards him?

 

“You’re not too bad on the eyes either, stranger.”

 

The man’s sexy, husky voice washes over me and I watch with widened eyes and my mouth half-agape as he exits the train, his long hair falling down his back and his ass sweet torture to my eyes.

 

 

 

The moment the doors slide close and the train leaves the station I regret not following the man. It would’ve been a bad idea, I could’ve been rejected and that would have been embarrassing. But it would’ve been all right because in a city with a population well over seven million, what are the odds of running into each other again?

 

I sigh.

 

“Sir, I think you lost this.”

 

I look up at yet another stranger. A strange figure she is, two buns on top of her head yet she has a wide and friendly smile on her face while she hands me a small card.

 

Without really thinking about it, still stunned at my moment of insanity for not following the long-haired man, I take the card from her with a small nod.

 

I turn the card around and watch it with a frown. Someone must’ve dropped it.

 

_Hyuuga Enterprise_ the card says. It’s a big company dealing with financials but I couldn’t care less. The only thing I know about the Hyuuga’s is the things the tabloids write and the gossip my employee Ino Yamanaka likes to spread about them.

 

Apparently they have a family-gene that gives them an unusual eye-colour. I thought it was white.

 

Suddenly the vision of white eyes, pale skin and long chocolate-coloured eyes pushes itself to the front of my mind and I blink.

 

Well shit.

 

\----

 

I push open the balcony-door with my right foot, business-card in my left hand, bottle of beer in my right and a cigarette clamped between my lips.

 

“Hey there.”

 

I look to the left where Chouji is lounging on one of the reed garden-chairs with a beer for himself standing on the small table next to him.

 

I lift my head slightly in recognition and slide into the second chair that stands on our small city-balcony with a gorgeous view of the apartment-building across the street.

 

I set my beer down onto the table and light my Marlborro with the lighter I retrieve from the pocket of my grey sweat-pants.

 

“How was your day?” Chouji asks, shoving some chips into his mouth. He’s always eating which is also the cause of his quite chubby figure.

 

I smirk and take a drag of my cigarette. I’ve known Chouji for almost my entire life and we know everything about each other. Why stop that now?

 

I puff some smoke into the air and close my eyes. “It started troublesome. And then I met the embodiment of sex on the tube.”

 

Chouji chokes on his chips and I chuckle when he turns to me with a ridiculed expression. “The embodiment of...”

 

“Sex, yes.” I drawl. I take a drag and flip the business-card over in my hand, scanning it. “And apparently he goes by the name Neji Hyuuga.”

 

Gods, even the name sounds amazing. I really should just give him a call.

 

I am a believer coincidences do exist but this screams intentional no matter how you look at it. And the fact I now have this man’s business-card in my hands can only mean he wants me to call him. For a quick shag or a relationship I do not know but my guess is that I’m going to get laid and very soon.

 

“Hyuuga?” Chouji asks, a frown marring his features now.

 

I nod, grabbing the beer from the table and taking a swig from the bottle, the cool liquid sliding down my throat.

 

Chouji whistles. “Then he’s loaded.” He says with a grin, before stuffing some more potato-chips into his mouth.

 

I take another drag of my cigarette and turn to watch the street below us. If I give that Neji a call, it will be because I seriously think he’s hot and want him to fuck me, not because he’s ‘loaded’. I’m sure he means for it to be the same but that doesn’t mean it can’t provide for a lot of trouble to actually follow through with this.

 

The media can find out and then I’ll be in spotlights I’d rather avoid for the rest of my life. His family can find out and if they don’t know he’s into men, I’m both literally and figuratively speaking screwed.

 

“I know that look.” Chouji points out with a sideward glance.

 

I turn to him. That man knows me too well for my own damn good.

 

“Give him a call and for once just don’t think of the consequences. If he’s as hot as you say he is, I’m sure it’s worth the... trouble.” He says with a self-satisfied smirk, gleeful he’s used my own catchphrase against me.

 

“I should, shouldn’t I?” I ask no-one in particular, leaning back against the back of the chair and I take another drag of my cigarette.

 

I try to imagine what would happen when I actually decide to ring the man. What will he say when he answers the phone, how will that sinful voice sound and most of all, will he invite me for a drink, to his apartment, anything? That train of thought doesn’t do me any good either. The mere thought of his apartment ignites a fire within me that has me almost choke on the beer I’m drinking.

 

Chouji’s laughter is carried away with the wind and he stands up, pushing himself past me and shuffling back into the apartment again. “Why don’t you give him a call before you kill yourself with sexual frustration?”

 

 

 

I turn the card idly between my thumb and forefinger, uncharacteristically nervous and excited at the same time. I lick my lip at the prospect of actually speaking with Neji Hyuuga. I can only hope he’ll agree to meet with me. Tonight.

 

_“Neji Hyuuga speaking.”_

_  
_

When the phone is answered I swallow, frozen by the sudden whirl of lust that rushes through me at only hearing this man’s voice.

 

Of course, the fact I don’t know him is adding to the excitement and I should keep that in mind but all I can think of now is to keep my voice steady and try to get myself a hot piece of man for the night.

 

“Well hello, Mister Hyuuga. Pleasure speaking to you.” I purr down the phone, a smirk playing on my lips. This is going to be so much fun.

 

I hear a small intake of breath on the other side of the phone and a tingle shoots through my body. This is good.

 

_“Who is this?”_

_  
_

“I’m wounded.” I reply. “Forgetting a sexy stranger that bothers to actually call you after you so obviously left me your number.”

 

Neji chuckles. _“Ah yes,”_ he murmurs, his voice a low husky tremor. _“So stranger, if I invite you for a drink would you give me your name?”_

_  
_

I lick my lips. Wonderful. “A drink? Sure, tonight and somewhere close to your place perhaps? Name’s Shikamaru.” I say. Normally I’m not one to be this straight-forward.But I’m not letting this chance pass me by.

 

_“Oh yes, Shikamaru. That is a great idea.”_

_  
_

I shiver and the purr that reaches my ear shoots right to my groin. I was completely right in calling this man the embodiment of sex.

 

_“Queens Throne down at Notting Hill, ten o’clock?”_

_  
_

A wicked grin spreads on my face and I feel giddy all of a sudden at the prospect of what might be a very, very good evening. “I’ll be there, see you at ten Neji.” I husk.

 

“Hm, I’ll look forward to it.” Neji promises me and I sigh happily when I’m met with the dial tone.

 

Tonight will be fucking fantastic.

 

\----

 

There’s a beer in front of me, Heineken from the tap, and I’m nervously smoking a cigarette taking in the normal pub-interior of Queens Throne.

 

It’s just your average pub and I’m actually relieved it’s not some up-scale club where people dance and press against each other. While my goal is the same as people who visit those kind of clubs, getting laid, I feel more comfortable in a place where I can actually sit and listen to a person. Although I, of course, hope there won’t be much talking tonight.

 

 

 

A warm hand grabbing my shoulder startles me and the hot breath that ghosts over my ear and neck has shiver.

 

“Hello, Shikamaru.”

 

I gasp and turn my head, blinking when I am met with opalescent eyes and a sexy, confident smirk playing on lush, pinkish lips that are begging to be kissed.

 

“Hi there, Neji.” I say and let my gaze trail down, his white t-shirt and tight black pants simple yet extremely hot and accenting just the right parts of his body. “Pleasure to see you.” I say with a smirk and sweep my gaze upwards again until our eyes meet.

 

Neji chuckles and his gaze sweeps over my body, a surprisingly exciting feeling knowing he’s checking me out.

 

“Why not skip the idle chatter?” He asks me, laying a hand against my shoulder and leaning dangerously close to my face, his long hair tickling my arm.

 

I look at him with a raised eyebrow but I am quite certain he can see the desire flashing through my eyes. Because I can see it in his eyes as well.

 

It is strange, an attraction like this. Even stranger that it is actually happening to me. But I am not about to complain, certainly not now that his thumb starts drawing circles on my shoulder.

 

He licks his lips and my eyes follow his every move, entranced. “We both know we want each other, so why not skip the obligatory talking and move to my apartment instead.” He tells me, his hot breath ghosting across my skin.

 

I catch his eye and doubt myself for a moment.

 

This could be a serial killer looking for his next victim, he could blackmail me later and there are so many other bad things I can think of happening when I go with this man.

 

 

 

But suddenly, as if reading my mind, a pair of pink lips is pressed against mine and a fire surges through me, settling in my groin and banning all doubts from my mind. His hand slips from my shoulder to my hair and I gasp when his tongue licks my lips.

 

I grant him access but the moment I do he pulls away with a teasing smile.

 

A disappointed sigh passes my lips but that feeling is quick to disappear when Neji murmurs: “You coming?”

 

I lick my lips, down my beer as fast as I can and throw my cigarette into a nearby ashtray, standing up and turning to the sexy Hyuuga with a smirk. “Not yet.” I answer.

 

His laughter rings through the air and it sounds perfect. And when he presses a strong hand against the low of my back to pull me closer and bring his lips down onto mine again, I’m quite certain this is going to be the best night of my entire life.

 

\----

 

The only thing I notice of the hallway that is lighted only by the street-light outside, is that it is narrow.

 

Because the moment I am standing inside Neji’s apartment the front door is closed and I am pushed up against the nearest wall, lips attacking mine with a passion that amazes me. Neji’s teeth tug at my lips gently and I lick his lips teasingly, my hands slipping into his long silky hair.

 

I slip my tongue in-between his lips, mapping his mouth and when his own tongue strokes against mine, shooting pleasurable tingles down my body, I can’t help but shiver. He has a very talented mouth that has me wonder the most forbidden thing at this moment.

 

Who was the one that taught him this?

 

But when his hands stroke down my chest, one of them lingering to teasingly rub a nipple through the thin fabric of the black, tight t-shirt I’m wearing I couldn’t care less.

 

His other hand cups my already half-hard erection, I’m sure after the walk back to his apartment Neji’s in the same state though.

 

With a soft groan I pull my mouth away from his, kissing and licking the pale skin as I’ve wanted to the first moment I caught sight of it.

 

He sighs under my ministrations and I gasp when he flexes his fingers, afterwards stroking me through my pants.

 

I’ve had my share of gropes in alleys and hallways but never before has one felt this exciting, arousing me so fast that after a dozen heated kisses and a few strokes to my member I’m ready to beg this man to take me, even if it’s up against the wall.

 

Suddenly Neji lifts my face with his thumb and forefinger and I am forced to look him in the eye, a groan leaving my lips when I recognize the raw, animalistic lust that swirls through his white orbs.

 

He leans forward and nips my lips before kissing a hot, wet trail to my ear. He licks my ear and I moan, it has always been a sensitive spot and having that sinfully skilled tongue so much as lick it has me shiver in delight and desire.

 

“Shikamaru,” he husks, his voice laced with need and shaking just the tiniest bit.

 

It makes me feel a bit relieved I’m not the only one reacting like a bitch in heat at the current situation.

 

“I want that hot, gorgeous mouth of yours on my cock.” He murmurs, suckling on an ear-lobe and I’m particularly melting.

 

“Right now.” He adds and without a pause he pushes me down to the ground until I’m on my knees in front of him.

 

Shock courses through my body, clouding my brain momentarily with a stunned yet pleasurable confusion. Yet it is gone after just a moment and then the thrill of the current situation has me licking my lips in anticipation.

 

I’ve had several partners that were demanding, if only slightly. And be it embarrassing or not, I find it quite the turn on when someone tells me what to do and doesn’t take no for an acceptable answer.

 

So with the sensation of someone controlling me running through my veins and settling in my groin, I undo Neji’s pants and lower the zipper while watching his expression with a leering grin playing on my lips.

 

He’s watching me, almost entranced, and swallows when he catches my gaze. He raises his hand and I can feel my shoulder-length hair fall against the sides of my face. And when his hands weaves through my hair and presses gently against my head I lean into the touch with a sigh.

 

Licking my lips in a somewhat nervous gesture I grab the top of Neji’s jeans and pull them down in one swift move, smirking in satisfaction when I notice the man is not wearing underwear.

 

I gasp though at the sight of his erect, swollen member that’s red from arousal and with pre-cum leaking from the tip. I have to admit I am quite jealous of this Neji Hyuuga. Most of the time people don’t have it all but he this man has money, looks and is very well-endowed to top it all off. Not that I’m complaining.

 

Gently taking hold of Neji’s erection I blow a puff of breath across it, Neji gasping when I do so. I lean forward and lap the salty pre-cum from his slit before engulfing the hot flesh, my tongue licking along his shaft as I take him deeper into my mouth.

 

“Ooh...” Neji moans, his voice dripping desire and when I reach up and gently fondle his balls he tightens his hold on my hair.

 

Yet when he pushes his hips forward in an impatient and lust-filled movement I place my other hand on his hips, stilling him. Wouldn’t want him to choke me before we even get the real fun started.

 

I pull away slightly, my tongue teasing the skin it comes along, only to take the hard flesh back in again. I hum, knowing it will feel good for Neji and I’m rewarded with a loud groan.

 

I don’t get to continue long though because suddenly Neji pulls me back and I release his hard shaft from my mouth, licking my lips.

 

I look up and catch Neji’s eyes. I shiver when he lays a hand against my cheek and on a sultry tone murmurs: “You have a very sinful mouth, Shikamaru. But I’d rather come with you on a bed begging for it.”

 

I moan and scramble to my feet quite un-charmingly. This man, if I hadn’t thought it before what he just told me would certainly have convinced me that this man is the living incarnate of everything that has to do with sex.

 

\----

 

Clothes lay scattered across the room, the light from the hall-way turned on and casting the room in a soft-yellow and blue hues.

 

I couldn’t care less, the walls could be pink and I wouldn’t have cared. All I am noticing now are Neji’s long fingers stroking my hard, dripping member.

 

The moment we entered the bedroom my clothes were nearly ripped from my body and I was shoved down onto the bed. Neji had removed his own clothes and grabbed a small tube of lube from the night-stand and he had crawled on top of me with a feral grin etched onto his lips.

 

 

 

When a lubed finger circles my entrance teasingly and Neji’s hot mouth trails up my chest with his tongue teasing my skin I throw my head back.

 

It is amazing how he knows exactly what feels good, what to do to have me moan from pleasure and beg for more. I open my eyes and look how Neji nips one of my nipples gently, how his hand moves along my cock and I moan.

 

“Neji...” I wheeze through my lust-filled haze and reach up to stroke his back, my other hand reaching up and I allow one of my fingers to trail from base to tip of his member.

 

Neji takes a deep breath but suddenly both my hands are pulled away and shoved onto the pillow above my head, Neji’s mouth latching onto mine and his teeth nipping my lips.

 

I kiss back, our tongues sliding against each other and I arch my back when one of his hands is dragged down my chest again, leaving a cold trail of lube behind on my burning skin.

 

“Hmm, I said I wanted to be inside you when I came, did I not?” He asks me on a sly tone.

 

I watch with half-lidded eyes, my chest heaving and my breathing ragged from excitement.

 

Suddenly though I feel his finger push past my ring of muscles, entering me so slow it is probably meant to be careful and comforting but is actually torture to me, and I gasp while my eyes widen. “Aah...”

 

“We’ll get to that now.” Neji murmurs and leans back down to kiss me again, distracting me from the finger that is now moving inside of me, stretching my entrance and readying me for his hard, thick cock.

 

His tongue teases mine, his free hand strokes my member and I wriggle in discomfort when a second finger joins the first one.

 

 “Nnh...” I bite my lip when a third finger enters me, he’s moving them slowly and carefully inside me now and I take slow, deep breaths to get myself to calm down.

 

After a few more strokes Neji’s fingers probe against my prostate, the action sending waves of pleasure through my body and I arch my back with a loud moan. “There, right there.” I breathe.

 

Neji chuckles and after a few more thrusts against my prostate he removes his fingers and I open my eyes, looking right into his opalescent orbs.

 

“I’m near, Shikamaru. You’re so hot and wanton, I’m already ready to burst.” He says, his voice raw with desire and his breathing slightly shaky. “This’ll be fast but you’ll scream my name in the end, I’m sure of that.” He promises.

 

He then sits up a little and squirts some lube onto his hands, coating himself with the substance.

 

Even if I had wanted to do it, I can’t move. Too entranced by the sight in front of me.

 

Neji Hyuuga, pleasuring himself while gazing at me and ready to fuck me is almost too much of a turn on. “Come on, Neji. Now!” I demand.

 

At my words he positions himself at my entrance and pushes in quickly, snapping his hips forward and I throw my head back onto the pillow and cry out at both the pain and pleasure of being filled like this.

 

After only a few seconds though the uncomfortable feeling ebbs away and I’m left with pleasure running through my veins and taking hold of my entire body and when he doesn’t move I open my eyes. Neji is watching me and when our eyes connect he smirks.

 

He pulls back and snaps his hips forward again, thrusting into me quickly and quite roughly and I cry out as white spots flash before my eyes. Amazing, he feels so wonderful inside me.

 

I buck my hips in time with him pushing inside of me, moans falling off of my lips without me noticing.

 

“So tight, Shika. I’m so close.” Neji moans, pushing back into me quickly and with so much force I can’t imagine he can go any harder or faster.

 

“Nnh,” I reach down and take my own cock in my hands, stroking it in rhythm with his thrusts.

 

He keeps a steady rhythm of pounding into me and I gasp each time he hits my prostate.

 

Suddenly I throw my head back, staring blankly at the ceiling when my pleasure reaches its peak. “Neji!” I cry out the second I come, my cum spilling over my hand and all I know in those few seconds is heavenly pleasure and nothing else.

 

 

 

Coming down from my high I open my eyes, Neji’s leaning over me, gasping for air and his long hair falls over us like a curtain.

 

He takes one last deep breath and turns his head to look at me, a satisfied small smile on his lips. “That was amazing.” He says and I can’t help but nod my head in agreement.

 

He pulls out of me slowly and I shift my hips uncomfortably when I feel his cum leaking out of me.

 

But when Neji sits up and offers me a towel from the bathroom I shake my head. “Nah, that’s a worry for later.” I say and he chuckles.

 

He lays down on his side, watching me with hooded eyes. “I take it you’re staying the night?” He asks, his tone actually quite hopeful but I don’t want to figure that out now. That’s all to be seen and discussed when I’ve slept at least two hours.

 

“Heh, I can’t be bothered to move.” I say with a smirk.

 

Neji chuckles. “Well then, I really could use a nap.” He says.

 

I nod in agreement. “Yeah, you wore me out.” I say and close my eyes to catch some well-deserved sleep.

 

“Told you so.” He murmurs and when I open one of my eyes I can see he is feigning sleep.

 

Ah well, he did promise.

 

\----

 

To me, the morning after is slightly uncomfortable.

 

I had expected to be kicked out the moment Neji woke up but here I am, at half past eight lounging in a big queen-size bed while I can hear the man that rocked my world last night rummage around in what has to be the kitchen.

 

I push myself up and rub a hand over my eyes.

 

It was as I had expected, a very good lay and now I feel a bit sad it’s just a one-night-stand. But I shouldn’t think about such things and simply be happy with what I’ve got and what he’s given me.

 

In fact, I should be absolutely grateful he liked my ass enough to even make me breakfast the morning after.

 

I step out of the bed, rub a hand over my lower-back when it aches just the littlest bit but shrug it off. What caused this was well worth the trouble I’m experiencing now.

 

 

 

I pad into the kitchen, fully dressed and actually quite anxious.

 

I turn the corner and am met with Neji who’s sitting at a small dining-room table with a mug of steaming coffee in front of him.

 

“Morning.” He greets me.

 

“Hi,” I say and not wanting to be left in the dark ask: “Should I leave?”

 

He raises an eyebrow and stands up, walking towards me with swaying hips and long hair hanging loose around his gorgeous body. “Even though I do enjoy your casual roll in the hay, I am still a Hyuuga, Shikamaru. And we protect my investments very carefully.” He says with a smirk and trails a finger down my cheek.

 

I lick my lips, excited he’s actually thinking of keeping me around. Who would’ve thought?

 

“So I’m an investment now, am I?” I ask him teasingly.

 

“Ah yes you are, if you count the dinner we’ll be having tonight.” He says and pecks my lips before turning back to the table.

 

I chuckle. I see how it is. What Hyuuga wants, Hyuuga gets apparently. I don’t mind that much, though. Who would, with such a beautiful creature?

 

I make my way towards his bay-window and gaze out of it, watching as cars pass by on the street. He may want me, and get me that’s for sure since I’m not going to deny him, but I am not an easy catch. “So, any chance your neighbour is actually Hugh Grant?” I ask, grinning when his chair scrapes against the floor and he walks towards me.

 

Hands grab my hips and I am pulled backwards against a hard body, Neji’s breath ghosting over my ear as he murmurs: “Hm, even if he was, the only name you’ll need to remember before the morning is over is mine, Shika.”

 

And as he did last night, he lives up to his promise in every possible way. 

 

**The End**


End file.
